Ron and Hermione One-Shots
by ComeAndDance
Summary: A collection of one-shots/missing moments from years 2 through year 7 that show the possible hidden moments in Ron and Hermione's relationship. From hanging out together in Hogsmeade, to cleaning Grimmauld place alone, to the second kiss after the battle, there are enough missing moments in the books to make any Rominone shipper's imagination go crazy!
1. A Few Rays of Sun-6th year

**A Few Rays of Sun**

 **Disclaimer:** This wonderful world of HP belongs to Ms. Joe. She was just kind enough to let me borrow it for a little while.

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It began to rain.

The world looked absolutely miserable as the sky dumped generous amounts of water onto everything within reach. Shades of gray seemed to be embedded in every tree, bush, and blade of grass. What makes the world seem even more miserable is when you look at all this through a small, cracked, glass window. This is precisely what Hermione was doing at the moment.

As she peered out through the rain-splattered glass, her mood seemed to reflect the weather.

She shivered. It was the day after Dumbledore's funeral and the entire world seemed to be mourning his death along with the occupants of Hogwarts.

Hermione sat on a cold, stone window seat inside a completely dark, deserted common room. Most of the students had gone home early and the few that still remained were to take the Hogwarts Express home tomorrow. Why exactly Hermione was sitting in a cold window seat watching the rain was a complete mystery to her. She supposed it was because she had nothing better to do. And yet, she did have trunk yet to pack...but the idea of going up to her empty dormitory was not a pleasant one, and so she continued to sit and think about nothing at all.

Soft footsteps announced the entrance of someone into the common room. Hermione didn't bother to turn and see who it was. She didn't care. The footsteps stopped abruptly and then began again, drawing closer to where she sat.

"Are you okay?"

It was Ron. Hermione turned to face him but did not answer. Ron knew the answer anyways. With slight difficulty, Ron squeezed himself into the window seat next to Hermione. He put one arm around her and she leaned her head slowly onto his shoulder. They sat like this together for some time listening to the rain drip against the window.

"How is Harry?" Hermione couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I think he's off with Ginny somewhere even though he 'broke up' with her yesterday." Ron sounded agitated.

"Ron, Harry needs Ginny just as much as he needs us. She fills a gap that neither of us could ever fill." Hermione sighed at Ron's over-protectiveness, "Let them be together for one more day."

"But, I don't get it? What gap can't we fill that she can?" Ron spoke indignantly.

"Ron..." Hermione sat up exasperatedly, "We can love Harry as friends, but Ginny can love him as...well...something more." She glanced up at him, "Unless you want to go around kissing Harry."

"I'll leave that to her." Ron almost smiled, but his face decided it was too much work and he stopped.

The rain had begun to let up and was pounding only lightly on the window now.

"What do you suppose will happen now?" Hermione rested her head back on his shoulder, thinking how wonderfully natural this felt.

"I don't know. I suppose there's the wedding and then..." Ron stopped.

Hermione knew what he was thinking, "We can't come back here can we? We'll have to go with Harry..."

"To look for Horcruxes." finished Ron with a sigh of acceptance. "Do you think he'll let us?"

"Well, I don't carry whether he wants us to come or not. You know when we tell him he'll act all gallant and refuse us."

"Yeah. And we'll be stubborn until he gives in." Ron nodded.

"It's going to be strange to not come back here," Hermione spoke softly, gazing around at the all-too-familiar common room with its overstuffed armchairs and ash-filled fireplace. The memories that occupied the room were too numerous to count.

Ron said nothing, but his silence was agreement enough. Hermione felt tears swelling unbidden in her eyes. She was confused about why she felt like crying. It was a mixture of all that had taken place in the last few weeks and facing such an uncertain future that overwhelmed her.

Ron squeezed her shoulder slightly and Hermione was reminded forcefully of Dumbledore's funeral. Ron, in a sudden fit of emotion, had, for the first time in Hermione's memory, wrapped an arm around her and with the smallest feeling of surprise Hermione had cried on his shoulder.

Hermione was now able to stem the flow of tears before they got out of control.

"It's going to be alright." Ron assured her in a protective voice, "In the end, it'll all be alright."

Wiping her eyes, Hermione turned to face Ron. The cramped window seat allowed for their faces to be close together and she could see each and every freckle splattered on his nose. With one swift movement, Hermione pulled him into a crushing hug. They remained like this for some time, her chin resting on his shoulder, breathing in the warm, safe smell that was Ron as he gently stroked her hair.

When they finally broke apart the rain outside had completely let up and a few rays of sunshine had broken through the looming rain clouds.

 **A/N: This my first go at attempting anything Fanfiction related. Reviews are always welcome!**


	2. By Her Side-2nd year

**By Her Side**

 **Disclaimer:** If I owned HP I would not be using a 10-year-old laptop right now.

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Ron slipped on his too-short maroon bathrobe and made his way out of the boy's dormitory as quietly as possible. He shivered slightly as his bare feet touched the cold marble stairs. The common room walls glowed faintly from the light of the few remaining coals in the fireplace. Ron figured it was probably around two in the morning so his chances of anyone else being awake were slim. As quietly as possible he slipped out of the portrait hole and set off down the dark, dissertated corridor. After a few cautious minutes, Ron reached the hospital wing doors and made his way inside.

There she was, laying in the exact same position that she always was. A look of fear and surprise frozen on her face. Her hair spilled out over her pillow and shone sliver in the moonlight. Her brown eyes were glassy and unseeing with none of their familiar warmth.

"Hey, Hermione." Ron sat down on the edge of her bed and stared into those horrible, frozen eyes. He hated seeing Hermione this way. It was almost as if she wasn't Hermione at all but merely a cleverly made wax figure.

Why exactly Ron had snuck out of Gryffindor tower in the dead night to visit a petrified Hermione was a mystery to him. He smiled slightly as he imagined the all-too-familiar look of disapproval on Hermione's face if she knew he had been out of bed after hours.

" _Ronald Weasley, how could you? What if you had been caught!"_

He almost missed her scolding's. Almost. Anything would have been better than having her laying here motionless.

Ron had been confused over his feelings for Hermione lately. When they first met he had utterly disliked her. She had been so unbearably annoying; always nagging them to do their homework and being an insufferable know-it-all while she was at it. Always little miss perfect, teacher's pet, and all those other unbearable titles.

And then he and Harry had saved her from a Troll and things had changed. She was still an annoying know-it-all but it was all more bearable for some reason. By the end of their first year, she had relaxed a bit and wasn't so uptight all the time.

And then Ron had gone home telling himself all the while that he didn't miss her. He didn't give the notion that he fancied her a second thought.

However, it was a bit annoying that whenever he mentioned her, whichever family members were present got a strange look on their faces.

To make things worse, Ginny kept teasing him about the fact he had a _girlfriend_. But no one seemed to understand that he didn't have a girlfriend. Hermione was just a friend. Nothing more.

Then he saw her in Diagon Ally at the beginning of the school year and she had greeted him with a hug. His ears had flushed a deep scarlet as Ginny had watched from the side with a smug, satisfied expression on her face.

And then they had gone back to school and things had gone back to normal, except things weren't back to normal, because Hermione was petrified.

To be completely honest with himself Ron had no idea what he felt for Hermione. Sure he still thought she was an annoying bookworm but there was something else. It was in the way she looked when she was concentrating particularly hard on something or in the rare smiles that she occasionally gave him when he made her laugh.

He pulled himself out of his thoughts and looked down at the bed sheet. Lying as motionless as the rest of her, was Hermione's hand. It looked so small and exposed that Ron felt the sudden urge to hold it.

He glanced around nervously. Here he was in the dead of night surround by petrified people, surely no one would notice or care. With that final resolve, Ron reached out and gently took Hermione's hand in his own. It was freezing cold, stiff to the touch, and felt so small compared to his own.

For some reason, his eyes began to fill with tears. Ron blinked rapidly, trying to keep them from falling, _"This is stupid. You're crying over a girl. Stop it."_

He used his free hand to swipe at his eyes while holding Hermione's hand in his other.

The embarrassing tears subsided. He imagined the look on Harry's face, or Ginny's, or the twins if they found him crying and holding Hermione's hand. His ears flushed a faint red at the thought.

After a few minutes more of simply sitting and holding Hermione's hand, Ron decided he should head back to the common room. As he stood to leave he whispered to the darkness, "I'll come see you tomorrow Hermione."

It was true she couldn't hear him, nor could she move, nor would she ever know what had just taken place, but Ron didn't care. She was his friend and petrified or not he was always willing to sit by her side.


	3. Short and Sweet-3rd year

**Short and Sweet**

 **Disclaimer:** The characters are JK's, not mine. They will always be her's. Always. *cries in the corner*

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"Ron, just put it back in the box before you hurt someone."

Ron was proudly twirling his new wand, flourishing it ridiculously until it emitted a burst of orange sparks and accidentally set a dry patch of grass, poking up from a crack in the road, on fire. The fire fizzled out in a moment but it was enough to leave Hermione fuming.

"You could have hurt someone!"

"Relax, I'm putting away." Ron hastily shoved his new wand back into its box and stowed it safely inside his bag.

Hermione and the Weasley family had arrived at the Leaky Caldron early that morning and after unpacking their things, the entire clan had traipsed off to Diagon Alley to buy their required school equipment. Once there, they had divided into groups. Fred and George; Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, Percy; and Ron and Hermione. It would take less time to gather all their supplies this way. Also, Tom, the barkeeper had told them that Harry had been staying there for a while already and they were all anxious to see him. Though they hadn't had much luck yet finding him.

"Can we nip over the Quidditch Supply Shop?" Ron glanced sideways at her, knowing very well that both her knowledge and patience with the sport was lacking.

"If we have to. Maybe Harry will be there."

A group of younger boys was goggling at the Quidditch shop display window. Despite only being thirteen, Ron was a head taller than most of the other children and was able to see over their heads to the Firebolt in the window, it's polished handle glistening in the sun. He gapped in awe at it. Hermione, who was quite a bit shorter, found it difficult to get a glimpse of what Ron was staring at. When she saw what it was she rolled her eyes.

"It's only a broom, let's—

"Only a broom." Ron closed his eyes looking highly offended. "Hermione, it's a Firebolt!"

"So?"

"So, it's only the fastest racing broom in the world! All the pro Quidditch teams are buying them."

"But I thought the Nimbus 300—

"2000!" Ron corrected her looking exasperated.

"Nimbus 2000 was the fastest broom." Hermione finished glaring at him.

"It was, but they have to keep coming out with new models, don't they?" Ron explained. It was a humorous scene really, normally it was Hermione doing the explaining.

With a 'humph' that meant Hermione was both annoyed with Ron and understood what he was telling her, she walked into the Quidditch shop, Ron trailing after her. They spent about fifteen minutes there, Hermione rifling through her bag of newly purchased books seeing as she was completely uninterested with her surroundings, and Ron examining with wonder all the latest Quidditch equipment.

As soon as they left the shop Hermione felt considerably less grumpy. They sauntered down the main road, not headed anywhere in particular. Occasionally they saw fellow Hogwarts students some of who gave a wave of greeting.

At one point they came across Lavender Brown and Pavarti Patil coming out of Madam Malkin's each with a bag of new robes.

"Hi Lavender, Parvati." Hermione greeted them out of politeness. "Did you have good holidays?"

"Hi, Hermione!" Lavender smiled at her. "Pretty good."

Pavarti nodded in agreement, "You?"

"Mine's been good."

"Looks that way." Parvati glanced at Ron who was standing a little ways off watching Hermione.

Hermione felt a blush creeping over her face. "Well, see you at school, I suppose."

Lavender smiled smugly at her, "See you."

As soon as Hermione turned her back on them, she heard the girls burst into suppressed giggles.

"What's with them?" Ron asked eyeing the laughing girls suspiciously.

"They're idiots. It's nothing." Hermione began walking hastily in the other direction, hoping her pink cheeks weren't too obvious.

Ron gave her a searching look but didn't press the matter. "It's so bloody hot out." He exclaimed suddenly. "Do you fancy some ice cream?"

Hermione hesitated for a moment, "Alright then."

They headed to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor and set their book-filled bags down at a small, umbrella covered table just outside the front door.

"I can get it." Ron offered in a surprising act of generosity, "What kind do you what?"

Hermione didn't answer at first. The truth was she had only had ice cream once before and she couldn't remember what flavor it had been then. Her parents were faithful believers in a strict "no-sugar" policy, therefore making the chance for her to experience such a treat rather rare.

"Um, it doesn't matter. Just get me whatever you're going to have."

Ron disappeared into the ice cream parlor leaving Hermione alone at the small table. While she waited Hermione dug inside her bag and pulled out her new Ancient Runes book. Being in the third year she was allowed to take some new classes and, frankly, she had never been more excited.

Before long Ron reappeared carrying two large cones towering with ice cream. He handed one to Hermione and sat down opposite her.

"What is this?" Hermione stared at the mountain of ice cream before her.

"It's what I'm getting." Ron grinned at her. "You told me to get you whatever I'm getting."

"Yes, but isn't this a bit much?" Hermione asked faintly.

"No, They've got bigger ones." Ron began licking his with enthusiasm. When all Hermione did was stare at hers in apprehension, he stopped. "Aren't you going to try it?"

"To tell you the truth, I've only had ice cream once before."

"What!" Ron looked at her as if she had gone crazy.

"Really Ronald." Hermione rolled her eyes. "My parents are dentists, remember? They don't like me eating sweets."

"Well, it's a good thing I got you some." Ron nodded seriously at her. "Image what a sad life you'd have if you'd never eaten more then one cone of ice cream."

Hermione's only reply was another eye-roll. Tentatively she leaned forward and took a small lick. After a moment her eyes lit up. Her second lick was much bigger.

"Like it?" Ron smiled smugly.

Hermione tried to look annoyed with the satisfied I-told-you-so look on Ron's face but she failed and a smile crossed her own face.

"How was Egypt?" She changed the subject and looked at him expectantly while taking another lick of the addicting treat.

"Different."

"That is enlightening Ronald."

"Well, it is." Ron said indignantly. "It's hot, sandy, some of the Pyramids were cool. There's all sorts of mental stuff past wizards have hidden in there. Some of it was really gruesome. But there was this one chamber that was full of knickers, every kind you could ever imagine. It was really weird."

Hermione let out a burst of laughter. Ron looked pleased with himself.

"You've got a bit of ice cream..." Impulsively Ron leaned forward and swiped a finger over the corner of Hermione's mouth. She stopped laughing, looking at him in surprise.

Ron seemed to have realized what he had just done and leaned back quickly. His ears would have put the Gryffindor common room to shame. Bright pink patches were beginning to show on Hermione's face. The spot where he had touched her was oddly sensitive all of a sudden and she was very aware of it.

A tense silence fell over them. Ron was blushing furiously and Hermione was eating her ice cream trying to distract herself from the fact that Ron Weasley had just touched her face. How long this awkward silence would have continued they never found out for just then Hermione caught sight of a familiar blacked-haired boy with round glasses.

"Harry! HARRY!"

Harry turned, smiled, and head toward them.

Their pervious embarrassment seemed to be forgotten as Harry joined them.

However, years later in a dark forest, in a dark tent hidden by protective enchantments, Hermione gave a small smile as her mind wandered back to the ice cream parlor. She glanced over to where Ron was asleep, his injured arm lying limply besides him. She noticed a smudge of blood on the corner of his mouth. It must have splattered there when his arm had Splinched. Quietly Hermione got up from her bed, knelt gingerly on the tent floor besides Ron's bunk, and, with a damp cloth that was lying on his bedside table, she used her hand to wipe away the blood.

With a melancholy sigh, she wished with all her heart for summer days, sweet ice cream, and simpler times.


	4. Extra Practice-5th year

**Extra Practice**

 **A/N:** This one is a bit shorter but, when you think about, all those missing moments wouldn't always be super long. Sometimes they'd just be short little incidents here and there. Anywho, the next chapter is going to be much longer. Thanks for reading! Cheers!

 **Disclaimer:** Ron Weasley is not my boyfriend, therefore, I do not own HP. Get it? Got it? Good.

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"Why are we going to the library?" Ron glanced over his shoulder to where they had left Harry in the company of Cho Chang.

"Honestly, Ron." Hermione rolled her eyes as she pulled Ron along by his forearm.

"What?"

"If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you." Hermione huffed. "It's time you figured some things out for yourself."

Ron had no answer to this. He lapsed into silence as they walked into the library. They headed for their usual corner table, near the back of the library as far away from Madam Pince as possible. They sat and Hermione pulled out two rolls of parchment and her large Transfiguration spell book.

"We might as well get started on Professor McGonagall's essay." Hermione pulled out a quill and began neatly printing a title.

"Hermione, she assigned those this morning."

"Exactly, I'm glad you were listening, Ronald."

Ron looked exasperated. "We've got a whole week to do them."

"If you don't care to get a head start that's your loss." Hermione didn't look up from where she had begun to write.

There was a stifled silence.

"Wait a minute." Ron looked as if he had solved a particularly hard problem. "You wanted us to leave so Harry could talk to Cho alone!"

"Clever, Ron." Hermione looked acidly at him, but the corner of her mouth twitched with a suppressed smile.

"He's either going to snog her again or ask her out." Ron looked angry about this for some reason.

"That would be the logical course of action; and with Valentine's Day being on the next Hogsmeade trip, he'll probably want to go with her. In fact." Hermione went back to her essay, "I'd be surprised if he didn't ask her."

"Better him than me." A smirk spread over Ron's face. "Imagine, Harry'll be stuck in a stuffy tea shop full of girls."

"Yes..." Hermione stopped writing and glanced up at him. "Um Ron..." she paused.

"What?"

"Nothing"

Back to the essay.

Ron gave her an odd look. "Seriously, what?"

"Well, it's just..." Hermione's cheeks grew pink. "I was wondering, do you plan on spending the Hogsmeade trip with Dean and Seamus?"

"No, I'm going with you, like I always do," Ron stated as if it was obvious, then something clicked. "Oh..." His ears began to redden.

They both stared at each other. They both looked down. Their faces both reddened.

The essay, yes, back to the essay. Hermione forced herself to keep writing.

The muffled sound of footsteps approached.

"Hey, Ron, Hermione." Ginny came up to them. "Ron, Angelina wanted me to tell you that she's scheduled an extra Quidditch practice this Hogsmeade weekend."

Ron's face fell. "Really? Maybe I could skip."

"Your part of the team. There's no way Angelina's letting you skip." Ginny glared at him.

"Fine" Ron glared moodily at the table in front of him.

Ginny let a wicked smile spread over her face. "What's up? Disappointed are we? Are you going to have to cancel all your Valentine's dates? That would be a shame." She grinned mischievously. "Were you planning on snogging Winky in a tea shop somewhere. Horribly romantic."

"Shut up." Ron's ears were a brilliant red.

Hermione decided to intervene, "Ginny, is there anyone else you need to contact about the new practice time?" Hermione raised her eyebrows significantly.

"What?" Ginny looked confused for half a second, then her eyes widened and she smiled sweetly. "Fine, Hermione. I get it. You two want to be alone. Don't let me interrupt your private study time."

Before either of them could respond to her, she hurried away.

As she left Ron looked more disgruntled than ever.

"You'll be going to Hogsmeade by yourself then?" Ron tried to sound as casual as possible.

"I suppose..." Hermione sighed. "Or maybe I could ask Zacharias Smith..."

Ron brought his head up so sharply he winced.

"I'm joking, Ron." Hermione couldn't conceal a smile.

"You'll have to tell me what happens to Harry." Ron relaxed a bit. "If he comes away with lipstick on his face, and pink confetti in his hair, I'll never let him forget it."

The tense atmosphere went back to normal. Hermione continued with her essay, while Ron ranted about what a horrible time Harry would have, and what a horrible bloke Zacharias Smith was, and most of all how horrible extra Quidditch practices were.

All Hermione did was smile.


	5. The Trouble with Cleaning-5th year

**The Trouble with Cleaning**

 **A/N:** Whew. This one is longer than I intended for it to be. Hey, who doesn't love a good long story every once in a while? Thanks once again for reading! Reviews full of love are always welcome! Cheers!

 **Disclaimer:** JK Rowling is the queen of the HP series. I also, have my suspicions that she is the queen of England but nothing has been confirmed yet.

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Pale sunlight filtered in through the grime-filled windows at number twelve Grimmauld place, waking Hermione from her peaceful sleep. She lay in bed for a few moments, staring across the room to where Ginny slept. Finally, she hoisted herself out of bed and commenced getting dressed. She threw on a pair of jeans, a light blue shirt, and quickly brushed through her ever-bushy hair. Hermione sighed, checking the clock on the wall, it was almost eight o'clock.

"Come on Ginny, get up. We have to go down to breakfast soon." Hermione gently shook her red-haired friend awake.

"Alright Hermione, quit shaking." Ginny sleepily pushed Hermione's hand away and dragged herself out of bed.

Hermione sat on her bed and waited while Ginny got dressed.

"Today should be interesting." Ginny smirked, glancing over at Hermione.

"And why is that?" answered Hermione cautiously. Ginny was wearing a look similar to the twins when they were brewing some sort of unpleasant plan.

"Mum said something about having a full house-cleaning day."

"So," Hermione looked slightly puzzled. "There's nothing interesting about that, we do it all the time."

"I'm almost positive that Ron will try, at least once, to get you alone in the same room as him today." Ginny grinned at the blush that crept into Hermione's cheeks.

"Ginny, you know Ron doesn't do things like that." retorted Hermione, rather hastily.

"We'll see." smiled Ginny, as she and Hermione made their way down to the kitchen.

As they walked into the brightly lit dining area, they noticed that breakfast was already on the table, courtesy of Mrs. Weasley, who was vigorously using her wand to scrub some dirty dishes. Fred, George, and Ron were already hard at work devouring the heavenly smelling meal. Ron paused from his ferocious breakfast-eating long enough to give Hermione a large smile as she walked in and sat down next to him. She stubbornly avoided the smirk Ginny shot her way.

"How did you sleep?" asked Hermione politely, reaching for a piece of toast.

Ron stopped chewing long enough to answer, "Pretty well. You?"

"As well as anyone can in this dump I suppose." she sighed, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

"That's one thing we'll be working on today." smiled Mrs. Weasley, coming over and sitting down next to George. "This dump, as you rightly called it, is going to need quite a bit of work if we want to tidy it up before Harry gets here tomorrow."

Ron promptly choked on his juice. "What! Harry's coming _tomorrow_ and you didn't bother to tell us until now?"

"Sorry dear, I only just found out this morning." smiled Mrs. Weasley apologetically.

"It's great that Harry's coming to stay," said Hermione lightly, "It'll be nice for him to get away from his aunt and uncle's house."

"Yes." nodded Mrs. Weasley in agreement, "Especially after having been attacked by those Dementors."

Ron choked on his juice again.

"You know Ron, you should really try swallowing once in a while." smiled Fred, as Hermione pounded Ron soundly on the back, "It tastes much better that way."

Ron chose to ignore Fred, "Dementors! He was attacked! Is he alright? What happened?"

Mrs. Weasley, with a look of concern on her face, answered her youngest son. "From what I heard, Mundungus Fletcher left his post early, and while he was gone Harry and his cousin were attacked by two of those foul creatures. They are both fine, although your father said Harry is going to be put on trial at the Ministry of Magic for the use of underage magic. Which is completely absurd." Mrs. Weasley huffed angrily. "What else was he supposed to do? Die?"

"Anyways," she sighed, regaining her composure, "I thought it would be nice if we did a bit of extra cleaning before he gets here. If you're all done eating we can start on the kitchen."

"Aw, mum. It's Saturday," groaned George, "Can't it wait for a bit?"

"As long as you're back here at 10:30 sharp. And I mean it!" Mrs. Weasley called after them as the twins scampered up the stairs. "Oh, Ron would you please clean your room up a bit and get the other bed ready for Harry."

"Right mum," said Ron. He was about to leave the kitchen but apparently had second thoughts and turned around, "Could you help me, Hermione? Some of the boxes I have to move are pretty heavy."

Hermione looked slightly surprised, but then she caught the look in his eyes that clearly said 'we need to talk' and answered, "I'll be right up."

On her way out of the kitchen she stubbornly avoided Ginny's look of 'I told you so'.

Once inside Ron's messy bedroom, Hermione stated what Ron had been hinting at, "We need to talk about a few things before Harry get's here."

Ron simply nodded and sat down on his faded orange bedspread. With a sigh, Hermione sat down next to him. "First off, who sent those Dementors after him?"

"Well that's obvious," answered Ron "You-Know-Who probably figured sending a couple of Dementors after Harry might finish him off."

"That's what I thought at first, but when you really think about it... I'm not so sure it was him. You-Know-Who has only just returned to power, it would be pretty risky to steal two Dementors from Azkaban and then send them after Harry. I think someone else did, I just don't know who."

"Maybe Malfoy or his dad did," suggested Ron, thinking hard, "They definitely hate him enough, and Malfoy's dad's a Death Eater right?"

"I guess they could have, but again, it's really risky and there's a good chance they would have been caught by the Ministry."

"What if someone at the Ministry did it then? It would be easier for them to get away with it." Ron was beginning to get frustrated.

"I suppose that could happen. But it doesn't seem very likely." She murmured mostly to herself, staring at the empty picture frame on the wall.

"Well, if you're going to put down every idea I give you then I give up." sighed Ron, falling back on his mattress with a soft 'thump.'

"Sorry," Hermione looked over her shoulder at him, "it's just there doesn't seem to be any reasonable explanation for who it might have been."

They sat in silence for a few moments, each trying to think of another possible culprit on who to place the blame.

Finally, Ron broke the silence by sitting up, "It's no use trying to figure out something that doesn't have an answer. The next question is how is Harry going to react to us not telling him about what's been going on around here."

"Ron, you know that Dumbledore made us swear not to tell him anything important in our letters." sighed Hermione, standing up and beginning to move some of the smaller boxes off of the bed Harry would be using. "We just have to tell Harry that Dumbledore said we couldn't tell him anything; the owls could have been intercepted."

"Sure we can tell him all that," shrugged Ron, coming over to help her, "But I still don't think he's going to take it very well."

"Don't be silly Ron. Harry's sensible. He'll understand once we explain it to him." stated Hermione a bit too optimistically. Ron merely shrugged again and began to lift one of the heavier boxes off of the battered bed. Hermione came over to help him, surprised at the weight of the box.

"What do they keep in these things?" she asked as they set it down in an empty corner.

All of a sudden, something small and black hurtled out of the box and latched itself onto Hermione's hand. She let out a shriek of pain and tried unsuccessfully to detach whatever it was from her hand. Ron grabbed what appeared to be a black box and, with much effort, pried it off of Hermione's hand. He threw it back into the cardboard box and slammed the flaps down sitting on top of them. After a few seconds, the movement inside the box stopped and Ron went over to look at Hermione's injury.

"Here, let me see it." He gently pried her fingers open to see a nasty looking gash that ran from her index figure to the bottom of her palm. It was bleeding profusely.

"Hold still," Ron ordered, his voice higher than natural, "I have some ointment here somewhere. Mum uses it on us all the time."

As he rummaged through the cupboard above his dresser, Hermione couldn't help noticing, despite the pain she was in, that pinned to the inside of the cupboard door were three pictures. One of herself, Ron, and Harry during their stay at the Leaky Cauldron in their third year, one of Ron's entire, smiling, red-haired family, and one of her. Just her. It looked like it had been taken during their fourth year. She was in the common room studying, the firelight flickering off her concentrating profile.

Before she could study the picture further, Ron slammed the cupboard shut, oblivious to what had just been visible, and hurried over to where Hermione's hand had now created a small puddle of blood on the floor.

"Give me your hand."

Hermione obediently held out her bloodied palm, which Ron took and immediately began to rub a green, jell-like salve on it.

"What was that thing?" Hermione sat down on the bed and gasped as the jell stung her injury. Ron sat down next to her and continued to rub the slave in as gently as he could, his voice had now returned to its normal volume, "It looked like some kind of jewelry box that bits anyone who disturbs it."

Hermione merely nodded and gritted her teeth against the searing pain. After a few moments, the gash began to fade due to Ron's consistent rubbing.

Suddenly there were two loud 'cracks' and Fred and George materialized out of thin air. "Well well, what do we have here?" grinned George coming over to examine Hermione's injury.

"Holding hands now are we?" Fred was also grinning mischievously, "Little Ronniekins is so romantic."

Ron self-consciously let go of Hermione's now completely healed hand.

"Shut up." his ears began to glow a light red.

"Not very nice are we?" smiled Fred, taking a step back.

"But seriously Ron, why is there blood on the floor?" George questioned, looking at the red puddle.

"I cut my hand while we were moving the boxes and haven't had time to clean it up yet." Hermione explained quickly, as George took out his wand and cleaned up the mess.

"What do you two want?" Ron glared at the twins, his voice threatening.

"Besides advising you to choose a more romantic setting for your next date, we came to tell you that mum is waiting for you down in the kitchen." Fred leapt away from Ron's fists and disapparated hastily with George following close behind.

"Hermione I'm―"

"You don't need to explain Ron." cut in Hermione, at the sight of his distraught expression "They were just joking around, as always."

"Right," Ron looked relieved that that was over, "We better head down then. I'm sure Mum's got a whole book of stuff for us to do." And together they headed down the creaky wooden staircase toward the kitchen.

Mrs. Weasley called Ron and Hermione over when they entered the kitchen. She plunged right into what their individual tasks would be. "Fred and George I want you to sweep and wash the entire floor and most of the wall. And watch how you use your wands! Don't overdo it just because you're of age "

The twins began their task sullenly, but Hermione noticed discontentedly that they seemed to be doing a lot of whispering while shooting glances toward her and Ron. They were planning something, and it probably wasn't pleasant.

"Ginny, I'd like you to polish the table and benches and take a look at the silverware when you're done," Mrs. Weasley continued without taking a breath, "Ron you can work on cleaning out the stove and cupboards, Hermione, dear, you can work on cleaning out the pantry, and I will be decontaminating the display cases."

She cast one satisfied look around to make sure everyone was beginning work on their assigned tasks, before striding toward several large display cases at the end of the hall.

Hermione headed towards the grubby pantry tucked away in the corner of the hall. Although it was a fairly large pantry, it was stuffed so full of food that Hermione had to squeeze inside carefully to avoid knocking anything over.

The shelves were covered with numerous jars, cans, boxes, and crates, some of which were admitting a foul odor or had a thin layer of mold covering them. With a sigh at the sight of the task that lay before her, Hermione began to sort through a load of apples throwing them into a crate.

An hour later she was still hard at work. When she was finally done organizing everything, she planned to throw away all the rotten and molded items, which there was an overabundance of. Just as Hermione finished organizing the onions, Ron, to her surprise, stuck his head through the door.

"I just finished, do you need any help?"

"Sure, Thanks." Hermione smiled and watched as Ron struggled to fit his way into the pantry. "I still have to finish organizing everything, but you can start throwing out anything that's, well, un-eatable." She gestured vaguely toward some molded tomatoes.

"Right." Ron narrowly avoided tripping over a large stack of flour sacks lying on the floor. After a few moments of concentrated silence, Ron presented what was clearly on his mind, "There's one thing I forgot to mention while we were upstairs."

Hermione nodded to show she was listening.

"I don't think we should mention anything about what happened last year with Cedric, or the maze, or the tournament." He tossed some fungus covered apples into a nearby waste basket.

"Defiantly." agreed Hermione, "If Harry wants to talk about it, we'll let him bring it up."

Just then an almightily 'SLAM' rent the air as the pantry door was forcefully shut, and she and Ron were plunged into total darkness.

"Ron?"

"Hermione?"

"Did you shut the door?"

"No, did you?"

"No."

"Then who did?"

"I don't know."

A loud 'ouch' was heard from Ron as his toe slammed into a crate on the floor. Hermione slowly slid to the floor as she listened to Ron trying to force open the door. This was great, just brilliant. All she wanted was a nice, simple day of cleaning. And what did she get? Stuck in a cramped, pitch-black pantry with the one person in the world who made her, well, she had to admit, slightly uncomfortable. After a few minutes of unsuccessful banging, she heard Ron pant, "I think it's jammed." He gave the door one more solid thud before giving up.

"Wonderful." Hermione replied sighing. She heard Ron make his way toward her, he swore silently as he smashed his foot again.

"Where are you?"

"Down here." Hermione squinted into the darkness trying to see something, anything. Someone had apparently blocked up the crack under the door to ensure that they were in absolute darkness. "Ouch! Careful Ron, that's my foot."

She felt him sit down on her right. A stretched out moment of intensely awkward silence followed when she heard a small grunt of pain. "Ron, are you ok?"

"Yeah, it's nothing, just splinters from that door." His voice came from the darkness next to her. All of a sudden he burst out angrily. "I'm going to kill Fred and George when we get out of here!"

"You think they did this then?" She asked. Although she too highly suspected the twins of imposing this prank on them. It helped to voice the question aloud.

"Of course it was them. Who else would do this!" fumed Ron from the darkness above her right ear.

"Even if it was them, what I can't understand is why did nobody heard you pounding on the door. Surely your mum is still out there cleaning?" Hermione questioned.

Ron nodded and then remembering that it was dark spoke, "Yeah."

Hermione heard more fidgeting accompanied by another exclamation of pain. "Ron, give me your hand, maybe I can get some of them out."

"How? It's too dark to see anything." retorted Ron, sounding skeptical.

"I can feel them if there as big as you're making them sound." She felt him stick his hand toward hers. She took it and felt around his palm. Sure enough, there was a fairly large piece of wood firmly lodged in the bottom of his palm near the wrist. Her fingers brushed against something wet and sticky. "You're bleeding!"

"Not much, I told you it's not a big deal." He made to pull his hand away but she held on. "I can get it out but then we need to put something on it."

"Good luck with that." He said grumpily.

"Well if you don't want it out fine! Suffer for all I care." Hermione pushed his hand away and glared into the darkness where she thought he was.

To her surprise, she felt him gently place his hand back in hers. In the silence that followed she carefully began to dislodge the gigantic splinter. She felt Ron's hand twitch as she worked on the splinter and realized that he must be in a great deal of pain but was bravely making no sound.

"I think I just about have it. I'm going to see if I can pull it straight out. Are you ok?" She was concerned at the thought of how painful the pull might be.

"I'm fine, just do it." Ron grunted through clenched teeth. Hermione closed her eyes, although she couldn't see anything anyways, and in one swift movement pulled the hunk of wood out of Ron's bloody palm. The moment the splinter was free from his hand Ron jerked it upward under the pain and Hermione felt it brush across her right cheek leaving a smear of blood.

"Careful Ron, you're getting blood on my face." Hermione reached up to try and wipe some of it off when she felt his other, none-bloody hand, pass over her cheek in an attempt to wipe off the blood, accompanied by a mumbled apology.

Suddenly, as if giant strobe lights had been flicked on, the door to the pantry was flung open, bathing everything in the blinding light from the kitchen.

The identical outlines of Fred and George stood in the door frame looking down with glee at the sight that met their eyes. Ron's hand was in mid-swipe on Hermione's blood-smeared cheek, he removed it and stood up quickly. To quickly perhaps, for in his haste he knocked over a crate of mushy tomatoes, slipped on the juice they admitted, and fell back onto Hermione's lap with a yell of alarm. The twins roared with laughter as Ron attempted to stand upright once more. Hermione got up behind him, blushing crimson, and swiping bits of tomatoes off her pants.

"I'm sorry Ron, but the kitchen pantry is no better a setting for a date then your bedroom." spoke Fred through his attempts to stop laughing.

Ron's face had turned the same color as the squashed tomatoes. The figure of Mrs. Wesley appeared in the doorway.

"What is going on here?"

"Fred and George thought it would be funny to lock us in the pantry." Ron spoke indignantly.

"We didn't do it." said George, smiling. "But whoever did was a genius."

"Yes, we thank you mysterious door shutter!" said Fred, grinning widely.

Mrs. Wesley ignored them, "Are you alright dear?" she examined Hermione and gasped when she saw her bloody cheek. "What happened to your cheek?"

"Oh, it's nothing." Hermione hastily wiped off the blood. "Ron's hand was bleeding and it hit my cheek."

In an instant, Mrs. Wesley had mended Ron's hand and vanished the squashed tomatoes. A short lunch was had, followed by a full afternoon of cleaning the front hall, a quick supper with a tired Mr. Wesley, and then bed.

Ron said a hasty 'goodnight' to Hermione, refusing all the while to make eye contact, before they departed for their bedrooms. Hermione and Ginny slipped into their nightgowns and crawled into bed. They lay silently for awhile, each lost in their own thoughts, before Hermione spoke, "You closed the door, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did." Ginny sounded slightly embarrassed.

"Why?"

"You and Ron both needed a push and I thought that would help."

"It didn't help anything." Hermione sighed, frustrated, "Things are just more awkward."

"Sorry." Ginny whispered, "He'll come around someday, you know. Just be patient. That's what you keep telling me about Harry."

"Yes. I suppose you're right." Hermione whispered back tiredly. They lay in silence for a good twenty minutes before Ginny drifted off to sleep.

Hermione suddenly felt the urge to get a glass of water. She slid on her slippers and quietly left the room. The house was always scarier at night. She shivered as she padded down the darkly shadowed hall. The bottom stair creaked loudly causing her to jump. After she had gotten her glass of water she started back toward her bedroom.

She had reached the top landing, when she heard sounds of movement from the end of the hall. After a few tense moments, Ron's sleepy figure came into view. He rubbed his eyes and stared at her.

"'mione whatd ew doing up?" He spoke through a huge yawn.

"I just needed a glass of water. What are you doing?" Hermione surveyed his faded orange pajamas in the gloomy darkness.

"I needed some water too." They stared awkwardly at each other for a few moments before Ron broke the silence, "Well, 'night then."

"Goodnight." Hermione turned to go when Ron called her back. "Hermione, wait a minute."

"Yes?" She came back, looking puzzled.

"Well, about today, with the twins...and the pantry...I just want to apologize." Ron looked highly uncomfortable.

Hermione felt surprised. Ron rarely ever apologized. She recovered quickly, however, "It's not your fault you know."

"Yeah, I know." Ron looked down at the dirty floorboards.

Hermione smiled at him. "Well, thanks for apologizing I guess."

She didn't know what made her do it. Maybe it was the darkness that made everything feel dreamlike, and therefore gave her confidence, or maybe it was the sudden rush of affection she felt toward him, or maybe it was because they were finally without the twins around to laugh at them. But whatever the case, Hermione stepped forward and gave Ron a heartfelt hug, which, after a few seconds of surprise, he returned.

Although it was brief, Hermione couldn't help noticing how safe and warm he smelled. There was also a hint of chocolate. They broke apart grinning widely at each other.

"You'd better get your water." Hermione spoke after a moment when Ron did nothing but stand and smile at her.

"What? Oh, yeah, water." Ron shook his head dazedly, grinned once more at Hermione, and started down the stairs.

Hermione made her way back to her room and lay down, all the while wondering why she suddenly felt so content. A ray of moonlight found it's way into the pitch black room, illuminating Hermione's bedside table on which was stationed a picture of her, Harry, and sporting a large, freckle-faced smile, Ron.

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 **A/N:** What did you think? Comments are always welcome.


	6. A Dance in the Darkness-7th year

**A Dance in the Darkness**

 **A/N:** So I got to thinking, in the 7th book the trio takes turns spying outside the Ministry of Magic. They're gone for several hours when it's their turn to spy/keep watch. That means when it's Harry's turn to be on duty Ron and Hermione are left alone for hours. _Hours_. Let your imaginations do the rest...

 **Disclaimer:** All the glory goes to JK Rowling. She knew what she was doing, I just like to pretend I do.

* * *

She absolutely hated it. Every dusty corner, infested room, and dark window was utterly despicable. If Hermione had been here under different circumstances she would have left without a second thought. But at the moment, she didn't have much of a choice.

She was sitting on the dilapidated couch in the room where she, Harry, and Ron had spent their first night. It was now three weeks since their arrival at Grimmauld place after fleeing the wedding. They had taken up in separate bedrooms. The privacy was nice, but Hermione found herself wishing that they could all sleep together, just as they had done their first night there. There had been something comforting about it.

Sighing she opened the _Tales of Beetle the Bard_ for the hundredth time and began to pour over the children's stories within, hoping for some clue or sign as to why Dumbledore had left the book to her. The more she looked through the book the more frustrated she felt. Her nerves were on edge most of the time, being cooped up in this nasty house, and they did not improve with her continued failure to find something important in the storybook.

There was a soft knock on the door and Ron poked his head in. "Harry's just left for watch duty. He'll be back in a few hours."

"Did he take his invisibility cloak? A-and Polyjuice potion just in case, oh and his wand—

"Hermione, Harry knows what he's doing. He'd be bloody stupid to not bring his wand." Ron came and sat on the couch next to her. Their shoulders brushed against each other.

"I know...I'm j-just being stupid." Hermione's voice quavered. "It's this stupid house and everything that's been happening..."

Ron put an arm around her shoulders. He had been doing that quite a lot lately Hermione reflected. Ever since Dumbledore's funeral, there had been a distinct change in Ron. He seemed suddenly more mature, this wasn't the case all the time obviously, but it was a more frequent occurrence. He seemed more apt to hug or compliment her then he had ever been in the past.

"Found anything in that book yet?"

"You ask me that every day. The answer is still no." Hermione swiped a hand over eyes, and there was a hint of frustration in her voice.

"Just thought I'd check." Ron withdrew his arm from around her shoulders and stood up.

"Where are you going?"

"I was looking through some rooms earlier. I found something kind of interesting. Hang on." Ron hurried out the room leaving a curious Hermione behind him. In a few moments, he returned.

"I think it's some sort of music player thing." Ron clunked it down on an oak side table. "Dad was experimenting on one once. I thought it'd be cool to try it out."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That's a record player, Ron."

"It's a Muggle thing, right?"

Hermione nodded.

"Funny that it's in a house like this. You think it'd be destroyed." Ron looked quizzically at it, running his hand over its different pieces.

"Maybe it was Sirius's. He probably would have kept something like that just to annoy his parents." Hermione sounded agitated and focused back on her book.

There was a moment of silence as she turned the faded pages of the book.

"Well, don't you want to see if it works?" Ron asked.

"Ron, we have better things to do!" Hermione had been so tense and edgy the last few days that an outburst like this was normal.

"Yeah, like reading children's stories and babysitting Kreacher."

"Dumbledore gave me this book for a reason!" Hermione's eye's blazed.

"I know that. But I don't think he meant for you to spend every waking minute with your nose in it." Ron replied calmly. "Just take a break, Hermione. The book's not going anywhere."

At first, she looked as if she was going to yell a snappy retort back at him, but then, after hesitating a moment, she closed the book. Leaving the book on the deteriorating couch cushion, she strode over to Ron to examine the record player.

It was tinted orange in certain places from the rust and a thin film of dust rested over it's long neglected parts. The large bronze trumpet used to amplify the noise was dented in several places. A black disc lay motionless under it.

"Do you know how to work it?" Ron asked.

"My Grandfather used to own one. When I was younger we would visit him a-and we'd dance around the garden while he played it." Hermione became a bit misty eyed at the memory. "That was a long time ago. He died and we never went back there."

Ron remained silent. He was praying that she didn't start crying. He couldn't stand it when she cried. It made him feel so terrible.

"I think I still remember how it works." Hermione placed the metal needle over the grooves of the record and cranked the handle at its side a few times.

There was a crackling of static before the disc started to spin and an upbeat swing dance began to blare from the metal horn.

Hermione looked startled by the sudden burst of noise. She drew back her hands, "Well, I think it works."

"Brilliant." And without warning, Ron grabbed her hand and began to dance around the empty room with her.

"Ron!" Hermione's eyes widened in surprise.

"Come on Hermione don't make me drag you. Move your feet." Ron smiled at her with his wonderful maddening grin.

She felt her heart melt.

Before long they were dancing ridiculously around the dusty, dark hole of a room. Ron would lift his arm for Hermione to spin, she would comply while laughing, causing Ron to grin even more broadly.

After he had spun her a few times, Hermione lifted her arm for Ron to spin. Ron ducked under her arm spinning ridiculously. She laughed, "You're too tall."

"No I'm not." Ron grinned and twirled in towards her. "You're just short."

They both continued laughing and dancing and spinning each other until they began to grow dizzy, which only made them laugh harder.

It was strange, Hermione would reflect weeks later, that they could do something like laughing or dancing when they were in such a dark place in their lives. However, it is the darkest of times when laughter seems the brightest.

Before long the music began to fade to static. Hermione felt disappointment welling inside her. Why did it have to end so soon? Couldn't it just go on forever?

As if in answer to her silent plea a soft stream of music began to issue from the player. Only this time it wasn't an energy filled swing, it was a soft song, reminiscent of a waltz. Sad streams of violin accompanied with a swaying piano melody filled the air.

She and Ron froze. Ever so slowly that it might have been a dream, Ron took a step closer to her. Without making eye contact, Ron hesitantly placed his hands around her waist. Hermione sucked in a breath as she felt the warmth and gentle pressure of his fingers through her light shirt. Just as she had done at Bill and Fleur's wedding she raised her hands and placed them on Ron's shoulders. She wished she could have intertwined her fingers behind his head but he was simply too tall.

Slowly, they began to dance. Sometimes taking small steps in no particular pattern, sometimes simply swaying on the spot.

Neither spoke a word. It was as if they were under some sort of spell and saying something aloud would break the enchantments. They had danced at the wedding, but not exactly like this. There they had been dressed elegantly with a golden dance floor and live music. That had been the fairy tale. A perfect dream. Now they were dancing on decaying flooring with a static-filled music recording. This was a feeble imitation of the dream. And yet, somehow it felt more real. Still a dream, yes, but a more believable one.

"Ron?"

"Hmm?" Ron's eyes were closed as if trying to savor and remember more than simply what his sense of sight allowed.

"I-is your family alright? Have you heard from them lately?" She didn't quite know what prompted this question.

Ron opened his eyes. "Hermione, if I had gotten any news from them I would have told you, you know that."

"Sorry" Hermione felt foolish, "I'm just worried about them."

"And you think I'm not?"

"No, of course you are." Hermione glanced up at Ron. "I'm worried for you too. Harry and I have both lost our parents in a way, but you haven't. I don't want you to."

Ron was silent and they swayed gently to the music. "It's so hard sometimes." His voice barely above a whisper.

"I know." Hermione felt tears prickling her eyes. Ron took notice.

"Don't cry." He wrapped his arms more firmly around her waist, drawing her closer. Their bodies were less than an inch apart.

For some reason this made Hermione want to cry even harder. She felt tears begin to squeeze themselves out of her eyes. They trickled down her cheeks like splattered rain on a window pane.

"Hermione..." He breathed her name. "Please don't..."

She hadn't cried since the night after the wedding. That was weeks ago. Now it all came pouring out like water breaking through a poorly constructed dam. She fell against Ron. She pressed herself against him as if this would somehow halt the pain. She felt his hands pressing against the small of her back and stroking her hair as he held her.

He had changed so much in the last few months. They all had.

He stood there holding her as she cried. She was a glass figurine and he was the only thing holding her together. Her parents were gone. The world was a mess. The only people she had right now were Harry and Ron. The thought of losing them was unbearable.

Ron kept murmuring softly under his breath. Hermione couldn't understand what he was saying but she didn't need to. The sound of his voice was enough.

The strains of violin music faded away into a soft static. Hermione felt the tears drying up. As the static disappeared and the whirring of the record disc came to an end, the tears stopped.

Ron didn't let her go.

The silence was shattered. There was a loud banging noise from downstairs. Kreacher had knocked something over and the portrait of Mrs. Black began it's wailing.

Hermione pulled away from Ron. The dream had ended. It had been so beautiful. She wanted to keep living it so badly. But as is the case with wonderful dreams, once you awake there's no way to get them back.

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Let me know what you thought! And as always, thanks so much for reading!


	7. See You Soon-Post War7th year

**See You Soon**

 **Disclaimer** : Writing these disclaimers so many times, just reminds me over and over again that I do not own Harry Potter. The sad truth.

 **A/N** : Now I could be wrong, (it's very easy for me to be wrong) but I'm pretty sure Hermione went back to Hogwarts to finish up her 7th year and graduate. I don't know about you, but I can totally see her doing this, even if JK never clarified it. I decided to write about her saying goodbye as she leaves for school for the last time. Cheers!

* * *

Hermione walked into a bright King's Cross Station. The screeching of engines and shouts of people hurrying to catch their trains filled the air. It was strange being back here. Two years wasn't such a long time and, then again, it was. Two years ago she had been starting her 6th year, Dumbledore had been alive, and she had never heard the word Horcrux. Those were simpler times.

Now Voldemort was defeated and the world was working on rebuilding itself.

She had decided to return to Hogwarts for her 7th year to officially graduate as a N.E.W.T. student. It would gnaw on her conscious forever if she never completed school. It was like never finishing a book or an important homework assignment; downright frustrating. Harry had been recruited by the Ministry and was currently undergoing Auror training. From his frequent letters and visits, he was working hard but enjoying himself. Ron had taken up the position of co-manager at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and was working full time assisting George.

 _That's where he is now,_ Hermione thought absently.

It felt wrong to be headed to Hogwarts without the two of them. Hermione felt emotion swell inside her chest. _No, you mustn't cry._ She swiped at her eyes.

One bright spot was that Ginny would be coming with her. This would be her final year as well, meaning they would be sharing a dormitory and classes together. This was a huge comfort. Besides, she would write the boys every day and she'd see them over Christmas holiday. The year would fly by.

The station suddenly grew quiet as a train full of passengers departed. Hermione glanced around at the deserted platforms 9 and 10 before stepping forward through the stone barrier between them. The change was instant.

The scarlet red Hogwarts Express stood before her and the platform was flooded with kids and their parents. Tears once again threatened her eyes. It was painful to believe that there was a time when she never thought she'd see that train again. Pushing these thoughts away, Hermione hefted her truck and scanned the crowd for the familiar fire-red of Ginny's hair. She didn't see her.

A body slammed into her from behind. "Hermione!"

"Ginny!" Hermione dropped her truck and spun around to hug the beaming redhead. It had been a few weeks since she had last seen most of the Weasleys. She had been spending some much-needed quality time with her reunited parents. However, not a second went by without her missing the redhead family, or Harry, or Ron. Espically Ron.

"How are you?"

"Can't complain. Although, I thought mum was going to invite the entire family down to see me off." Ginny shook her head. "Last child headed to school and all that. But I convinced her not to pull Charlie half-way across the country."

Just then, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Percy, and Ron came into view. _Ron_.

Hermione couldn't run fast enough. She flung herself on him in a tight hug. As she was consumed by the smell of Ron, she could feel him hugging her back. In fact, he did so with such excitement that she felt her feet leave the ground for a few seconds. She was reminded forcefully of the first time he had lifted her in the air, only a few months ago in the Room of Requirement.

"I didn't think you were coming!" Hermione stepped back beaming up at him.

A ridiculously happy smile was shining on his face. "I had to come see you off. George can handle the shop without me for one day."

"How have you been?" It had only been two weeks since she had last seen him, yet it felt much longer.

"Busy." Ron didn't take his eyes off her. "Business is insane, but I like it that way. As long as I'm doing something I don't have as much time to think about..." He halted and she saw the pain in his eyes.

"I know."

"So, going back to Hogwarts." Ron glanced at the scarlet steam engine behind her, hastily changing the subject. "Wish I was going with you, to be honest."

Hermione smiled. She knew Ron didn't want to go back to graduate, the job he had the joke shop was perfect for him, if there was any reason at all that he'd want to go back, it would be because of her. She said none of this out-loud of course.

"It'll certainly be different without you and Harry."

A loud whistle blast sounded. She glanced over her shoulder to where Ginny was loading both her and Hermione's trunks on board.

"You'll write?" Ron looked hopeful.

"Everyday. Twice if I can manage it." Hermione beamed at him.

"Hermione I...well, you...it's just that..." Ron struggled to speak. His ears were beginning to glow.

Even after their first kiss months ago and the few others they had shared since then, Ron never failed to become flustered around her. She absolutely adored it.

"Yes?"

"It's just...well...I-I love your hair." Ron gazed at her.

Hermione allowed an amused smile to cross her face. Inside, however, her heart was melting. She couldn't help but feel there was an underlying meaning to that statement. Ever since the end of the war, Ron had taken to complimenting her at random intervals. It only happened once in a while, but when it did Hermione could barely stop herself from full-out kissing him every time.

"It's just so bushy, and curly and so you..." He placed a hand on her thick locks. She leaned into his touch and he gently pulled her face closer until she could feel his warm breath mingling with hers.

Another whistle blast sounded.

"Ron." She whispered his name. "Ron, I have to go." She felt tears well in the corners of her vision. _You'll see him in a few months. It won't be that long._ But she knew the truth...it was going to feel like an eternity.

With a deep longing in his eyes, Ron stared at her intensely. And then, without warning, in front of his family and a packed Hogwarts Express; he kissed her.

Without taking a moment to think Hermione kissed him back. The station platform had disappeared leaving no one but her and Ron. It was such a beautiful soft kiss that sent sparks flying through her body. They clung tightly to each other. Neither wanted to let the other go. They had done so much 'letting go' after the war. So many funerals and goodbyes. This was one more goodbye and it pained them both.

After a few moments, Hermione pulled away gently.

"I wish you didn't have to leave." Ron murmured. Hermione felt the warm puffs of his breath caress her cheeks.

"I'll see you soon." Hermione stood on tiptoe, kissed him once more, and without looking back, boarded the train. The platform was nearly void of students and now only parents remained; waiting to wish their children a final farewell.

Hermione found the compartment Ginny had claimed and hastily shoved down the window. Just then the train screeched and lurched forward. Her eyes flew over the crowd of onlookers. His red hair was easy to make out. Their eyes locked. Hermione raised a hand in parting before Ron was lost from sight.

She knew she would see him soon, and yet, it could never be soon enough.


	8. Of Skiing and Window Seats-5th year

**Of Skiing and Window Seats**

 **A/N:** Just to clarify, this takes place right after Ron gets the position of Keeper in their 5th year. Simply pure Romione fluff.

 **Disclaimer:** HP. Not Mine. Got it? Got it.

* * *

 _"'Oh no,' said Hermione, looking relieved, 'if you're going that means I can go without being rude too, I'm absolutely exhausted and I want to make some more hats tomorrow. Listen, you can help me if you like, it's quite fun, I'm getting better, I can do patterns and bobbles and all sorts of things now.'_

 _Harry looked into her face, which was shining with glee, and tried to look as though he was vaguely tempted by this offer._

 _'Er...no, I don't think I will, thanks,' he said. 'Er-Not tomorrow. I've got loads of homework to do...'_

 _And he traipsed off to the boys' stairs, leaving her looking slightly disappointed behind him." ~OoTP p.278_

Feeling a bit put out, Hermione watched as Harry rushed up to the boy's bedroom. Why couldn't he understand that she was doing the right thing by freeing these house elves through her clothes-making efforts? Maybe one day he'd come around. A yawn overtook her as she turned towards the girl's staircase. She really did need to get to sleep. However, she had barely made it up the first step when a voice called to her over the party noise.

"Hermione!"

She spun around to find Ron hailing her from the other end of the room _. It_ _is a special night for_ _him_ , she reasoned with herself, _it's not often that things like this happen to him._ With a sigh, she glanced at the clock. It read 11:50 pm. She could afford to stay up a bit longer. Practically all her homework for the week was finished anyway. She walked over to Ron who was guzzling butterbeer as he sat on the rug in front of the fireplace. He was leaning against the legs of an armchair. She sat cross-legged on the floor next to him.

"How many butterbeers have you had?" She glanced concernedly at the steadily growing pile of empty bottles. Ron looked confused for a moment, then noticed what she was looking at and laughed.

"Those aren't all mine. Relax, Hermione. Do you always have to be so serious?"

"Sometimes I really think I do." She glanced suspiciously at Fred and George who were making their way through the crowd talking to different people and then writing their names down on a clipboard, most likely to use them as test subjects for their latest joke merchandise.

Ron looked over his shoulder at them before taking a huge swig of butterbeer. "Come on Hermione. Leave them alone for one night."

She said nothing and merely turned away from them. After a moment she took a breath and said, "So let me try again. You're now the person who guards the three hoops so the other team can't score, right?"

"Right," said Ron proudly. "To be honest, I didn't think I was good enough. I mean I thought I had a small chance, but there was this one bloke who could really pull off some moves."

"But they chose you." Hermione couldn't suppress a smile.

"Yeah, yeah they did." Ron beamed back at her. There was a comfortable silence in which Ron opened another butterbeer bottle.

"I'm glad you shortened your teeth."

"What?" Hermione was caught completely off guard.

"You know, last year, when you got hit with that curse and you had Madam Pomfrey shorten your teeth to fix them." Ron gestured with his bottle as if this was a normal topic of conversation.

"Yes, I remember." Hermione had no idea where this was going.

"I'm just glad you shortened them." Ron shrugged.

"Why?" Hermione could feel herself blushing.

"You smile more than you used to," Ron stated matter of factly.

"Oh, I hadn't noticed." Hermione was sure her cheeks were bright pink by now. "I'm really warm, is it okay we move away from the fire?" Hermione stood up rather hastily.

"Sure." Ron grabbed his bottle and stood up eagerly next to her. They made their way through the crowd to a quieter corner near the window.

"Ron, I really think you've had enough of those." Hermione snatched the bottle from his hand.

"Come on Hermione, I'm fine." Ron pouted. "At least let me finish the bottle." He sat next to her on the window seat.

With a sigh of frustration, Hermione handed the bottle back to him.

"Did you finish your homework?" Hermione asked stiffly.

"Hermione, leave off will you?" Ron knocked back the rest of his butterbeer and slammed the empty bottle down with rather more force than was necessary.

"In other words, no." Hermione crossed her arms and glared at him. "You and Harry get on my nerves sometimes. Why can't you just do your work?"

"Hermione we've got all of tomorrow to do it." Ron waved his hand airily. "I just made the Quidditch team. Let me enjoy myself."

"Fine. But don't expect me to help you tomorrow." She leaned back against the dark window. Ron looked over his shoulder at her, let a grin cross his face, and leaned back next to her.

Hermione felt her heartbeat do an odd roll in her chest. She had never realized how small this window seat was until now. "Why are you smiling?"

"Cause you'll still help us tomorrow."

"And what makes you say that." She glared at him.

"Cause you always help us." Ron shrugged confidently. Securing the position of Keeper (and possible the twelve butterbeers) had given him an odd buoyancy.

Hermione decided not to answer this. _Just_ _try not to argue with him for one night_. Maybe if she went to bed she wouldn't be tempted to snap back.

"I'm going up." She announced and made to stand.

Ron grabbed her wrist. "Come on, don't go yet."

This was the second time she had been caught off guard tonight. Having no answer to this she merely sat down on the stone window seat again. Ron practically never acted like this. She was confused and strangely pleased. It was a nice change from their fighting. It was late and the common room was practically empty. No one would see them in the shadow of the window seat. And that is when Hermione Granger decided to experiment.

Ever so subtly she slid closer to Ron until their shoulders were touching. She glanced at Ron's face, he was desperately trying to remain calm, but his ears were dead giveaways.

"So," Ron's voice cracked. He stopped, swallowed, and tried again. "So you'll be coming back to the Burrow for Christmas, right?"

"Actually, no."

Ron looked extremely put out. "Why not?"

"I have to spend some time with my parents once in a while. We're planning a skiing trip."

"A what?" Confusion crossed Ron's face.

Hermione almost laughed out loud, "You've never heard of skiing before?"

"No." Ron looked curious. When Hermione didn't elaborate he asked, "Are you going to tell me what it is?"

"Well, you strap these skies to your feet. They're kind of like long, thin boards. And then you're able to slide down snowy hills or mountains." Hermione tried to explain.

Ron just stared at her, "You're going to put boards on your feet and slide down mountains?"

Hermione tried to cover a grimace. It did sound pretty ridiculous when it was explained that way. "It's really fun Ron. You have to see it to understand."

Ron burst out laughing. "Oh I think I understand pretty well, Hermione!"

"No, you don't! It really is fun." She tried in vain to defend herself.

Ron continued to gasp with laughter, "Whatever you say." Suddenly he stopped laughing and frowned. "You'd rather slide down mountains than have Christmas with m—us?"

"What I'd really rather do, is spend some time with my parents. I'm sure everyone can live without me for a few weeks." Hermione explained.

"I still think it's ridiculous." Ron snorted.

"You would." Hermione was horribly conscious that throughout this whole conversation their shoulders had continued to lean against each other. Neither of them had moved. Neither of them seemed to want to break the contact.

"We should really get to bed." Hermione didn't try to stifle her yawn.

"Yeah." Ron agreed.

Neither of them moved.

They couldn't just sit here all night. _Oh_ , _but you could_ , said the small annoying voice of rebellion in the back of Hermione's brain. As surprisingly tempting as the thought was, Hermione wasted no time in pushing it firmly away. With an extreme effort, she stood up.

A brief flash of disappointment crossed Ron's face before he stood up as well.

"Congratulations again on making the team." Hermione smiled at him.

"Thanks," Ron said quietly as he stared at her in the dim light of the common room. The fire was nothing but a pile of burning embers and the empty common room glowed with a soft orange light. Hermione felt herself blushing under his gaze. She was filled with a sudden and unexpected urge to kiss him.

"Night Hermione." Ron broke eye-contact with her. His ears where a light shade of red as he headed towards the boy's staircase.

"Goodnight Ron."


End file.
